


Denim Days

by dedougal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-05
Updated: 2011-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some unintended side-effects when Castiel gets himself a pair of jeans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Denim Days

Laundry was an essential part of being human. And while they were waiting for Cas’ clothes to dry, it made sense for him to acquire some more clothes. Some less formal clothes. Jeans. And t-shirts. And something other than that ridiculous trench coat.

It was when the waitress ran her hand up Cas’ thigh while asking if he was sure that he didn’t need more coffee that Dean realised something was up. People tended to avoid Cas, tried to not look at him directly. A lingering after effect of the angel experience. Sometimes even Dean found himself doing the same, although he knew his avoidance had an altogether more sinister basis.

Dean irritably leaned over and knocked her hand away gently. It wasn’t even like she was young and hot enough for him to encourage Cas to go for it. “Just the check.”

She pouted, unprettily, and stalked back to the counter. Dean watched Cas carefully over the rim of his coffee cup. Cas placed his hands on the formica table and examined his fingers as if they were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. The waitress carried the check over, laying the paper on the table in between them. Her hand waved over Cas’ for a long moment before she turned with an enormous sigh and headed off.

It wasn’t as if Cas was ugly. It was just that he never gave off any hints of availability. Not even when drunk. He became even more stern and closed off. He just fell over lots. Hungover Cas was a different story, all soft eyes and groans. Dean clamped down on the thought as the Impala pulled up outside. He threw down some bills, not leaving much of a tip and stumbled out of the diner after Cas.

Sam offered to give up the driver’s seat but Dean was magnanimous and tired. He opened the passenger door, then paused. “Cas, why don’t you ride up front? I’m going to catch some shut eye in the back.”

Sam gave him an odd look as he folded himself in.

 

Dean batted absently at the hand that was shaking him. The purring of the Impala reminded him of childhood and roaming the roads with Sam before this whole damn apocalypse thing. He’d managed to do more than doze and wasn’t too happy at the huge hand that seemed to be determined to drag him out of it.

“Man, you need to wake up. There’s a problem.” Sam’s voice penetrated his brain and Dean snapped awake. He ran his hand across his mouth to surreptitiously check for drool and looked up to see his brother hanging over the back of the seat.

“What’s up?” Dean growled. He winced as he sat up. He must have been lying comfortably for some time.

“Cas went into the truck stop ten minutes ago and he hasn’t come back out.” Sam looked uncomfortable as he shared the information.

“And you needed to wake me for this because...” Dean rubbed his hands over his eyes. “And don’t say it’s because he’s my angel.”

Sam turned back to look out of the window. “I just don’t feel comfortable around Cas at the moment.”

“He doesn’t really think you’re an abomination, you know,” Dean muttered as he slid himself over to the door and clambered out.

Sam had been quite right to wake him though. Cas stood at the centre of a circle of what he reckoned were angry truckers. A woman, short denim skirt riding high above her knees and red top tight around her breasts, seemed to arguing with one of the men. She threw a look at Cas that screamed “interested” and the man she was pushing at seemed to become ever more aggressive.

Cas looked confused. Then his eyes met Dean’s and he didn’t look away for a long minute.

Dean knew that Cas was more than capable of taking care of himself in a fight. He’d learned a thing or two from him and those angels seemed ever easier to bring down to Earth. The damage done to Cas’ body was completely human and his clothes stayed torn now. Dean had mended some of the tears in his haphazard way but Castiel’s trenchcoat looked on its way out. Just as well laundry had forced them to replace some of the more ragged items.

Dean liked Cas in jeans. He liked the way the material moulded itself around his thighs and the denim hung scuffed over his shoes. Dean dragged his eyes away from Cas and looked at who he thought would be the lead trucker. He also let his hand drift below his shirt at the small of his back. “Problem, here?”

The trucker took his time looking Dean up and down. “Your buddy here was getting a little too friendly with Carly there.”

Cas opened his mouth. “She asked me for a light. I explained that I no longer...”

“That’s okay, Cas.” Dean cut him off. There was no knowing what Cas might say. It was bad enough that he had them heading for a fight. “Cas here was just being polite.”

“Then why did Carly have her hand down his pants?” A trucker behind Cas spoke up. He looked ready for a fight, flexing his hands and rolling his neck. Dean felt an odd stab of jealousy. If anyone should have their hands down Cas’ pants... Oh. That was what was going on. Dean looked more closely at the girl. Her eyes were fixated on Cas like the waitress. What that said about his baby brother’s uncomfortable attitude didn’t really bear that close a scrutiny.

“She was being polite?” Dean suggested. He jerked his head at Cas who came to stand by his side. “We’ll be leaving you to discuss manners with your girl a little more.” He started backing up towards the door. A few of the truckers made to follow but their leader held them back.

Sam looked relieved to see them. He was standing by the Impala now, leaning against the passenger door in his usual spot. A cup of coffee dangled from his hand. “You got him?”

“And I didn’t even have to break any bones to do it. Sadly.” Cas looked at him intently. Dean had to look at the ground. “Not that I would have needed to. Cas here can take care of himself.”

“I guess I just didn’t want to leave a trail of bodies behind.” Sam turned around and pulled another couple of cups off the roof of the car and held them out. Dean sipped his gratefully and Cas tentatively. “So...”

Dean wondered how exactly to broach the subject delicately. “How long have you been thinking about Cas naked then?” Yeah, delicate wasn’t exactly his strong point.

Sam choked and spluttered while Castiel looked at him curiously. “Sam?”

Sam took a moment to get himself under control. “I swear... It’s becoming stronger. Since probably yesterday. It’s not me, though. I don’t...” Sam trailed off and made an odd flip-flopping motion with his hand.

“S’okay, dude. I don’t doubt you.” Sam blushed even harder as Dean casually took a swig of the coffee.

Finally Sam got fed up of waiting for his brother to reveal what was going on. “And...? Why am I suddenly perving over your angel?”

“Cursed object. Probably the jeans.” Dean shrugged. He mentally chalked up a win for himself.

Sam’s eyes fixed on the jeans. He gulped and looked rather desperately at Dean. “How...?”

Dean took pity on him. “The waitress. Then the floozie in there. I think that exposure has probably made you susceptible too.”

Sam nodded. “It’s like an advertiser’s dream come true. Jeans so good they make everyone want to have sex with you. Hey. Everyone. Why aren’t you affected?”

Dean wondered how to get out of this one. Luckily Cas decided to start tuning into the conversation again. “If I am to not affect Sam’s lusts, I must remove these pants.” Cas moved his hand to the waistband and started to undo his belt.

Dean gulped. Sam gulped. Then they looked at each other. “We have to get out of here,” Sam suggested. “Cas, there could be other effects. We need to research.”

“I’ll drive?” Dean brought his hand up to catch the keys. “Cas, get in the back.”

 

In the end, Sam took the back seat and Cas the passenger. Dean clutched his fingers tight on the wheel and concentrated on the road. He pulled over much earlier than they would normally do into a near empty motel parking lot. “Get two rooms, Sam.”

Sam headed for the motel office as Dean swung the car around the lot to park in front of the dilapidated row of doors. Castiel’s voice was loud in the sudden silence after he turned the engine off.

“Are you affected, Dean?” His voice still held that edge of angelic intensity. Dean felt himself shivering.

Dean nodded, once, curtly. Then he turned to look at Cas. “Yeah. But there’s more. It’s probably why I didn’t pick up on it earlier.”

Castiel looked at him again. “It’s not the jeans, is it?”

Dean let lose a short bark of laughter. “Not just the jeans. Although I swear I can feel them lowering my resolve.” His voice was low and rough.

Cas was still watching him and Dean felt a flush cover his cheeks. “There is not one room for Sam and you and one room for me, is there?”

Dean coughed. He was still drinking from the water bottle to relieve it when Sam returned. “Two rooms. What’re we doing?”

“We stash Cas and I keep an eye on him while you go research. We need to know if destroying them will harm Cas.” Dean kept his eyes firmly fixed on the duffles he was dragging out of the trunk. He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to see either Sam’s disapproval or Cas’ intrigue.

Sam was more than happy to go along with the plan. He seized his duffle and laptop, heading for the nearest door. He opened it and turned to point at the door to the immediate right of the one he was in. “That’s yours. Thought I better get adjoining so I can interrupt if you suddenly give in to temptation. Or whatever.” A red flush darkened Sam’s cheeks as he nodded a goodbye and shut the door.

Dean shuffled his feet as he made his way over to the other room. Castiel was hot on his heels. Kinda literally. Dean could feel the ex-angel’s hot breath on the back of his neck. He tried to stop reacting to the shiver racing down his spine.

There were two beds in the room. He pointed to the far one and Cas shrugged out of his dirty tattered overcoat and sat on the edge to pull off his boots. Dean tucked his duffle alongside the wall. His palms were suddenly sweaty. “Do you want a drink or something?”

Dean turned to catch Cas’ answer and swallowed suddenly. Cas hadn’t stopped with removing his coat. He had shed his shirt as well. The faint lines of the wound Cas had cut into his own chest were clear in the late afternoon sunshine. Dean noticed absently that Cas had also taken off his socks. His eyes traced the waistband of the jeans, slack without the belt, gaping just enough for Dean to be able to slide his hand inside without cutting off his circulation. He could see the edge of boxers.

Dean gripped the back of the rickety chair firmly until his knuckles were white as bone. He bit the inside of his cheek, attempting to remain silent. It was his legs that betrayed him. They moved inexorably towards Castiel, dragging the rest of his unwilling yet oh so willing body with them. He ended up toe to toe with Cas, eyes meeting and breath mingling. Dean clasped his hands together at the small of his back to stop himself reaching out and grabbing Cas.

“The jeans do add to temptation,” Cas mused, studying Dean. He lifted one of his hands and traced the fine white line of a long forgotten wound along the top of Dean’s collarbone. Dean let a gusty sigh out and clasped his hands tighter. Castiel continued to sweep his long, elegant fingers along Dean’s shoulder. He fitted his hand against the red raised print on Dean’s bicep and squeezed gently. “I do not think the jeans make me want to do this.”

Dean could not respond as Castiel brought his hand up to cup the side of his face. He let Castiel tip his head to the perfect angle for a kiss. His mouth was dry and Dean couldn’t help but let his tongue slide out to futilely attempt to moisten his lips. Castiel was suddenly much closer, his lips ready to chase the path the tongue had taken.

“Do the jeans make you want to have sex with me, Dean?” Castiel asked, a dry lilt revealing that he was not as calm and controlled as he was trying to be.

Dean knew that the bastard was going to make him say it. “Not just the jeans, Cas.” Dean could hear the raw want in his voice. He stood his ground, refusing to budge another inch. His mouth was not quite so controlled. “I want you to undress me and suck me and fuck me and kiss me and –“ Dean bit down on the last bit of his sentence. He didn’t need Castiel to hear the words make love to me.

“I can do that,” Castiel near whispered. “I did rebel and fall, all for you.” Castiel leaned forward and finally – finally – pressed his lips against Dean’s. It was chaste at first, dry lips meeting. Then Castiel brought his other hand around and pulled Dean firm against him. Dean could feel Cas’ arousal against his thigh and let his near painful grip on his wrist go. His arms encircled Castiel and all boundaries seemed to break. Cas’s hands scrabbled at his side to lift up his t-shirt, Cas’s lips parted and his tongue fucked into Dean’s mouth. Cas’ hips rolled against Dean’s desperate for that sweet, dark, right pressure.

They had to break apart for Dean to pull the t-shirt up over his head. Their hands met as they pulled at Dean’s fly. Dean smiled up at Cas then, finding humour in their desperation to be naked. The look turned serious as Castiel reeled Dean in again, mouths crashing together. Dean slid his jeans to his feet. Castiel peeled his boxers down.

Dean started when those long fingers stroked down over his naked ass before skittering away to pull at his hips. He broke the kiss long enough to grind out, “Cas? We can stop. If you’re not...” Dean lost the power to speak when Castiel started mouthing up and down his neck.

“I hear it hurts if I do not prepare you,” Castiel whispered, lips close to Dean’s ear. “I would not wish to hurt you.”

Dean bit back the urge to put on his usual bravado. Even still, he was Dean Winchester. “Lube. Pocket of my duffle.”

Cas pushed back, breathing heavily. “Get on the bed,” he ordered before walking towards the duffles. Dean took the time to remove the remainder of his clothing and to check that the curtain was firmly closed before lying back on the pillows. He watched Castiel stride back across the room towards him and idly jacked his cock. Cas was still wearing the jeans but they rode low on his hips now, a bulge in the front promising more.

Castiel stood at the side of the bed for a long moment. “I have kissed you. There are other things you asked me to do.”

The breath left Dean’s lungs as Cas knelt beside him and bent to take his cock in his mouth. It took the remains of his control to resist thrusting up into the tight, wet heat. Cas let his tongue flick across the slit before sliding down once more. “Cas.. Stop!”

Castiel sat back with a confused expression on his face. “You asked me to do that?”

“I want to come on your cock.” The words were out before Dean could censor them. He grinned lazily. He liked that idea. “I want you to be deep inside me when I come.”

From the predatory look in Castiel’s eyes, he was not the only one. He stretched his body up to cover Dean’s, stealing a deep kiss from his lips once more. Dean gasped when the rough fabric of the jeans brushed against his tender skin. He’d had enough. He swiftly unbuttoned Cas’ fly and pushed the jeans and boxers down low enough to expose Castiel’s cock. Cas groaned as Dean wrapped his hand around it and squeezed. “Give me the lube.” It was Dean’s turn to give orders.

Cas sat back on his heels, cock bobbing temptingly in front of him as Dean flipped the cap open and squeezed a good amount of lube out on to his fingers. He worked the wet gel between his digits in order to warm it before sliding his hand down past his balls. Dean opened his legs further as he carefully slid one finger in. The lust addled expression on Castiel’s face was enough to make him feel comfortable adding another. As he carefully prepared himself, Castiel leaned forward, careful not to jar his arm and kissed him deeply.

Dean started to become a little impatient at that. He withdrew his fingers and wrapped the still greasy hand around Castiel’s cock. It seemed even bigger as Dean worked the lube along the shaft and over the head, using the pre-come gathered there to make his work easier. Sweat was gathering on Cas’ skin, dampening his hair into rough curls at his temples, making his chest gleam. Dean ran his other hand up Cas’ chest, feeling the shift of muscles and the dull thudding of his heart. He finally cupped the hand around the back of Cas’ neck, drawing him in for another fierce, possessive kiss.

“I’m ready,” Dean told him as Cas drew back for oxygen.

“Would it be better for you on your knees?” Castiel’s calm solicitude was oddly out of place with the way he was panting. A sudden punch of lust shot through Dean as he lifted himself up on his elbows. The bed was not quite big enough for him to just roll over but he managed to shuffle himself around onto his knees. Dean felt totally exposed as he felt Castiel lean up behind him and gasped at the first touch of his hands on his back.

Dean took a deep breath to relax himself. He could feel the rough denim chafe a little at the back of his thighs as Cas came even closer. The press of Cas’ dick at his hole made him shudder again. Cas was moving slowly though, not forcing anything. They both sighed in relief as Cas finally penetrated. Cas was tender as he pushed forward, taking his time and letting Dean adjust to every inch he was taking.

Dean soon had enough of tender and gentle. He rolled his hips, making Castiel gasp. Cas thrust into him, shallowly at first and then faster, deeper, harder. Cas’ hands found their way to Dean’s shoulders and held on tight as he seemed intent on driving Dean through the mattress. Dean couldn’t take the pressure much more. He dropped his head to the pillow and worked his hand beneath their joined bodies. It didn’t take much more than a few quick strokes for his orgasm to hit. He realised Castiel must have also felt the pull and twist of his muscles as he sped up, grunts falling from his mouth, before thrusting deep into Dean, one, two, three final times.

Castiel returned to the gentle considerate lover had been, sliding out of Dean carefully. Dean found he couldn’t do much more than collapse onto the bed after that. He felt Cas fit himself along his side and the blanket being lifted up over them. He didn’t even complain when Castiel wrapped an arm around him, legs still encased in denim entwining with his naked ones. Dean felt himself drift off to sleep without the need for alcohol for the first time in a very, very long time.

 

The door slamming open shocked Dean awake. He blinked twice, hand groping for the gun he knew should be under the pillow.

“It’s okay-“ He heard Sam say. He stopped reaching for the gun and sat up. The blanket pooled around his waist and he grabbed it before it revealed more of him than Sam really needed to see. He looked at Sam then.

Sam had stopped talking, mouth hanging open. Colour was rising in his cheeks. “I was just joking about giving in to temptation, you know,” Sam finally spluttered out.

Dean looked at the warm body beside him. Cas had rolled over and was clutching his pillow tightly, hair mussed more than usual. Dean felt his fingers twitch with the sudden urge to run his hands through the dark mass. “Yeah. Well. Uh.” Coherent thought was obviously still a ways off.

Sam came over and offered him a cup of coffee. Dean took it gingerly. Sam placed another cup on the nightstand beside him and then headed for the door. Sam appeared to be moving on auto-pilot.

Just before he left, he turned back to Dean. “I found out how to end the curse on the jeans.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, sipping at the coffee. He was not going to pull the blanket back up and be all embarrassed like his brother wanted him to be.

“Cas has to have sex that he wants to have. With someone he... Anyway. It should be safe to take the jeans off. And we can burn them.” Sam opened the door. “Shame we can’t burn out my eyes,” he muttered, as he left.

Dean stretched, feeling the muscles along his spine stretch and contract. He drank some more coffee. They had an apocalypse to stop. They should get up soon. Then he gave into the urge to run his fingers through Cas’ hair.


End file.
